Stalking the Truth
by the only one
Summary: after sd-6 forces a betrayal, one thing seems to be the option. it's road trip time to nowhere?
1. Chapter 1

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by the only one -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
Sydney Bristow got out of her car. She saw her handler, Michael Vaughn, waiting for her on a park bench. Walking towards him, she wondered why her father warned them to meet at the park instead of the Taco Bell they were supposed to meet at. A lot of this had been going on; just the past week Muligany had sent them to a—  
  
"Sydney!" She stopped in place, standing in the middle of the parking lot, less than one-hundred feet from her car.  
  
She jolted from her trance to see Dixon and his daughter. Vaughn had turned in his seat as well, and must have recognized the man as Sydney's partner in SD-6 for he had turned back around by the time Sydney ended her conversation with Dixon and was on her way towards the bench again, coming around his right.  
  
She sat next to Vaughn stiffly, staring into the sunset coming across the water. "You noticed Dixon."  
  
"Yeah; was that planned?"  
  
"No." She relaxed; regular Vaughn, to ask questions like that. She put her purse next to her.  
  
"Alright. I'm going to put my arm up; it's twitching. So, what's our status?"  
  
His hand brushed against her shoulder and settled just past her bare arm; she was wearing a tank top, being in Los Angeles and all. He, on the other hand, was wearing suit. She hardly saw him in anything but. "Headquarters is paranoid for once. Sloane actually brought my father in at the same time as me to, quote, save time."  
  
"It's nice to see that SD-6 is worried. Back at the CIA, they're probably proud of you."  
  
"You know, that's what I'd like to know. How do they get my information before I tell you? Except for dad, no one else is a double. Luckily, Sloane trusts my father too much to let go of me."  
  
"He's afraid."  
  
"Partly. He also knows that I'm one of the most successful agents at SD-6 and he doesn't want to lose me. After Dixon reported my stature when he blew up the plant, Sloane was a little suspicious. I should have been overjoyed that Dixon used his head and brought a secondary detonator. Instead, I was frozen in place. He almost got out of me that I was the one who diffused—"  
  
Vaughn was squeezing her shoulder—not that she had anything against it, but it was a different kind of squeeze. It wasn't a 'good job' agent-handler squeeze. It was too intimate, too comfortable. She liked it too much.  
  
"Excuse me? Is there a reason you're doing this?"  
  
"Just playing the part. We're a guy and his girlfriend, meeting for the first time in a few weeks due to a business trip to Sao Paulo. I know you got the message."  
  
/*/*\*\  
  
Badenweiler, Germany; the Schiller plant—  
  
"You know Vaughn? He likes you."  
  
She looked up, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "Yeah?"  
  
"He respects you." A moment of silence.  
  
"Well, I've got a bomb to diffuse."  
  
\*\*/*/  
  
"That's what I don't get." Vaughn suddenly bent down and kissed her neck. The sucking at her neck rushed something through her as she tucked her hair behind her right ear, comfortable yet uncomfortable. This wasn't something she was supposed to be doing. But it felt—  
  
"What?" Vaughn's voice against her bare skin caused another ripple to go through her system.  
  
"Why the hell is the CIA sending you and me to these crazy-ass places to give reports? What's wrong with the old casual meeting at the gas station?"  
  
"I don't know. I guess it's because there's a lot more people here to cover up any microphones." He spoke just below her ear, in a deathly low whisper. Almost to prove his point, an unmistakably Italian family suddenly walked past, talking loudly.  
  
"You are supposed to be my superior. You have to know."  
  
"Not anymore. They promoted you; now we're equals."  
  
"They what? Why wasn't I informed?"  
  
"That's how it works at the CIA. You find out for yourself by an agent, not a supervisor." There were a few seconds of a silence.  
  
"Oh." What's my position called? she wondered. And how can you promote a double agent?  
  
"What?" He looked up a little, lips off her neck. She turned her head swiftly, her chin hitting his forehead hard. Vaughn winced, his head going back up from under her hair.  
  
"Oh my god, are you alright?" She put her hand on his temple, a light pink showing already.  
  
"Yes. Is your chin?" Vaughn asked with a straight face.  
  
She laughed a little, her hand still on his forehead. "It's fine."  
  
"That's good." His forehead wrinkled for a second. They sat like that for another moment. Then he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.  
  
Sydney wanted to pull out, to turn her head ever so slightly so his kiss landed on her cheek—but she couldn't.  
  
=====  
  
"She's at the park? What's she doing there?"  
  
"I don't know, I just tell you these things."  
  
"You're sure it was her? License plate—"  
  
"Relax, it's her. Who is she?"  
  
"A friend of a friend's. Alright, thanks James."  
  
"Anytime, Will."  
  
Will Tippin hung up his phone and sighed. "What is she doing at the park?" He stood up and called for his assistant, a previous intern. She had finished college a few months earlier and was now working here. "Rebecca, I'm leaving."  
  
She walked up to his chair. "No overtime tonight? Must be a record. Following that Kate Jones person?"  
  
"Er, no—Sydney."  
  
"You haven't asked her out yet?" She placed some papers on his desk.  
  
"I wasn't planning on it."  
  
"Are you stalking her?"  
  
"No! Why do I tell you these things?"  
  
"Because you have no one else to talk to. Besides, you haven't called her recently."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Sydney!"  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
"Okay, I'm confusing you. Go ahead and stalk her. I'll forward your calls to your cell phone."  
  
"Thank you. That's all I needed."  
  
Grabbing his cell phone from atop his desk, he stood up and finally headed out.  
  
Will arrived at the park in just a few minutes. He had just passed rush hour traffic; of course, it was rush hour all day long in LA. Parking his sedan in the first row of parking spaces from the path, he opened his window and turned off the ignition. He pulled a newspaper from the passenger seat and pretended to read as he looked out the driver's side window and the front windshield.  
  
Sydney was talking to a black man and his daughter a bit away from her car. Someone from the bank, he concluded. He noticed someone, a guy in a suit sitting on a park bench, watching their exchange and turning back to the sunset after a moment.  
  
The conversation ended. Sydney walked forwards—and sat next to the guy who had been watching her and her colleague. They spoke for a while, and his arm went around her.   
  
Who was this? Why hadn't Will seen him before? If it was Sydney's boyfriend, he would have been at the Halloween party. He could have talked to him instead of snacking on candy corn, but he hadn't been there. Nah, it was probably her long lost brother. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of relationship with your brother caused him to start kissing your neck.  
  
It wasn't her brother.  
  
They stayed like that for a bit more, when Sydney suddenly jerked her head a bit and the man sat up. Her hand went up to his forehead and he kissed her.  
  
/*/*\*\  
  
  
Los Angelos, California; Sydney Bristow's living room—  
  
"You go on a lot of trips."  
  
"It's the bank. I love to see other countries, so it's okay."  
  
"The bank. I see. ...Sydney, why do you think the kiss was so weird?" He toyed with the nametag on her suitcase.  
  
"Weird? In what way?" She took the suitcase away and sat on the couch next to him.  
  
"I think it was because you don't usually kiss someone you're that close to."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He turned his head and kissed her.  
  
"I have to meet my father for dinner."  
  
"I am so sorry; god, I'm so stupid."  
  
"No, it's okay."  
  
\*\*/*/  
  
Will started up his car. The noise of it surprised Sydney and the man—they separated. He shifted the car into reverse and drove home.  
  
=====  
  
CIA headquarters in LA; Agents Muligany and Vaughn, along with Sydney and her father, are in a meeting. They are discussing what happened just before the detonation of Schiller's plant.  
  
[Sydney: I figured out why the CIA is sending me and Vaughn out to meet a lot more than we did before—almost once a week, unlike the after-mission chat we used to have. Unless Vaughn is a double agent and I don't know it, they're either trying to check and see if my information is correct or they're trying to get us together. I mean, would it be a reason for us to meet just so I could find out that I was promoted? All I could have done was hang out here for a while and someone would come up and congratulate me. And Taco Bell would have been just as good as a park bench. At least there I could have gotten a Chalupa.]  
  
  
a/n: after editing part this chap on 11-20-02, i laughed when i read the syd/spymom hair tuck i had originally. good eye for details, huh? 


	2. Chapter 2

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
"I have to—I have to go grocery shopping." Sydney stood up briskly. Anything—anywhere but here, she thought. He stood as well.  
  
"Right. Okay. I'll be heading back to headquarters." Awkward moment #24, Vaughn thought as he fixed his shirt. He brushed Sydney's hair away from her face for a moment, partly to see if there was any red on her neck and partly to release the tension.  
  
She didn't want to stop this moment, but she had to. It was too uncomfortable. Sydney opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Vaughn's lips pressed against hers again and she found herself conforming herself around him, leaving no space between them. Behind closed eyelids, she imagined herself somewhere other than Los Angeles. No, she thought, stopping the fantasy. She and Vaughn had never been anywhere together, be it another city or continent. She wished they had been.  
  
Her instincts heightened a moment before she heard a voice.  
  
"Sydney?" Francie.  
  
She pushed Vaughn away momentarily. "Francie, hi! I was just about to go grocery shopping, but I got held up at the bank." She gave Francie her trademark smile, hoping to dislodge any thoughts of who Vaughn really was.  
  
"It's alright." She gave Sydney a little grin and watched the relief wash across her face. Why relief? she wondered, saying aloud: "Who's this?"  
  
Sydney's mind reeled for Vaughn's first name. "Michael. I met him at the bank; he's my superior, but we met at a meeting. Michael, this is Francie."   
  
Of course, he knew about Francie already. CIA knew of everyone relevent in Sydney's life. "Hello, Francie. How are you?"  
  
"Good; thank you. You know, it's funny I met you here. I was just about to call you; Charlie and I are going out to dinner tonight and he wanted to know if you wanted to come, too."  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude—" Sydney started, but Francie cut her off.  
  
"It's perfectly okay. Bring Michael along, we can get to know him."  
  
Knowing what Francie was thinking, Sydney said, "We aren't togeth—" This time, Vaughn interrupted.  
  
"I think there's a meeting tonight. We have to attend." Sydney looked at him, thinking of this untruth.  
  
"That bank is stealing your social lives." Watching the look Sydney and Vaughn shared, she added, "Oh, were you two planning on going out tonight? I'm so sorry! I just assumed—"  
  
"We aren't going out tonight. And I thought that meeting was postponed to tomorrow, Vau-Michael." Francie's first comment had started Sydney thinking. She didn't go out that much. This was a good way to get some fresh air again, and she and Vaughn would probably just head back to CIA headquarters and sit there thinking. "We'll take your offer. It'll be nice to eat something other than my cooking or fast food. Do you want to ride back with me, Francie, or did you come with Charlie?"  
  
"I'll go back with you; I came by trolley." To Vaughn she said, "Come to Sydney's house around seven. We'll take one car out there."  
  
"May I ask where we're going?"  
  
"Just a little outdoor pizza place Charlie and I found. Nothing fancy, but semi-formal. A suit should be fine."  
  
"Thanks." And to Sydney: "I'll call you before I come around."  
  
"Okay, bye," Sydney called to a retreating Vaughn. "See you tonight."  
  
They waited for him to sit inside his Mercedes before Francie said, "Where's your car? We have some serious talking to do."  
  
"What?" Sydney asked, confused. She led Francie to her jeep.  
  
=====  
  
"You've reached Sydney Bristow; leave a message after the beep—"  
  
BEEP  
  
"Hey Sydney, it's Will. I know you're probably not back from work yet, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. A new restaurant is opening out by the college and it's supposed to be good. Call me."  
  
Work, schmirk. She was probably still at the park. He knew he was being a little overprotective of Sydney; but it was his nature. For a moment, he pondered going to her house and parking outside until she got home. But that would seem stalker-esque. No, he thought, pulling on to the expressway, she needs space. I'll wait an hour then call again. On second thought, I'll just let her call me back. Yeah, that's good.  
  
Good enough for now.   
  
He really wanted to take her out tonight. He wasn't hungry; Rebecca had gone on and on about some television program called the Glutton Bowl. It had thoroughly grossed him out. No wonder she's so thin, he concluded, she watches shows like that to suppress her appetite. More like extinguish. A while later, he reached the nearest mall. Parking his sedan into a far away spot, he sat there. Just sat there.  
  
An hour passed. Another half hour. Fifteen more minutes. Ten more minutes.  
  
He gave a heavy sigh before dialing his phone.  
  
"Rebecca? Hi, how are you? Yes, I know I saw just a couple hours ago. You did do your job. Perfectly—you know what? Are you busy tonight? I'm thinking of heading over to that new restaurant out by the campus. Feel like joining me? Great. Are you still at work? You're not. Well, wear some formal clothes; I don't think you should show as much skin as you were at work today. It was a nice outfit. Tell me where you live. Fourteen-seventeen North Anderson Valley? It's an apartment building; just wait outside. I'll be there around seven. Great. See you."  
  
Yes, his life was hard.  
  
=====  
  
"Francie, I don't know what the big deal is! He is from work and that's it. I never meet him anywhere else."  
  
"Oh, and you just happened to be in the same park at the same time?"  
  
"Yes. Why are you so worried?"  
  
A moment's silence. She didn't want to tell Sydney the truth. Something to stall her; to give her enough time to think of the right words.  
  
"Was it the first time you kissed?"  
  
Was it? Sydney couldn't remember ever kissing Vaughn before. Of course, such a feeling she was sure she would remember. "Yes. Fran, are you sure you don't have a reason for being so worried, other than being a great friend?"  
  
This brought a smile from Francie. "Thanks, Syd."  
  
"So do you have a reason or not?"  
  
"Yeah, I do. It's Will."  
  
Will? That was her reason? "Will?"  
  
"Will."  
  
"My best friend Will. How?"  
  
"Think about it."  
  
I'm thinking, but nothing's coming out. No sense of enlightenment; nothing. She shook her head momentarily to rid herself of those thoughts; cynicism was not of her nature. Her house appeared in the front windshield. Sydney parked in the driveway and got out. Francie was close behind her.  
  
Had it been momentary confusion or the truth? Sydney unlocked her door just as her answering machine was recording.  
  
"Hey Syd, it's me again. Sorry to cancel on you, but I forgot I had to take the intern to the restaurant for... some critiquing experience. Have a good night." The recording stopped before Sydney could pick up the phone.  
  
"Cancel? Did he make a date or something?" Francie asked, shutting the door behind her.  
  
"Not that I know of. Let me listen to the other messages." Sydney pressed the play button and listened to the previous two messages: her father—asking her to call him, and Will—inviting her to a restaurant.  
  
"Within two hours he could get another date."  
  
"He's already dated all the interns, when did a new one appear?"  
  
"He's dated all of the interns? Did the Clinton administration not teach him anything?" Francie giggled. Sydney joined in.  
  
They shared a laugh as they headed towards their rooms.  
  
"So, what are you going to wear? Can't borrow something of mine because you're too skinny—" at this Francie grinned "—so we'll have to find a little red dress of yours. Something Michael will fall over for."  
  
"I can't imagine Michael falling over unless—" She was about to add 'he was shot with venom' but decided against it. Even a bullet couldn't take him down. Francie didn't seem to notice it and was already searching Sydney's closet.   
  
"Here! It's like something off the catwalk." Francie handed a very plain-looking, red knee-length dress to Sydney and continued speaking. "Add some red lipstick and you'll look stunning. Too bad you don't have some red highlights—"  
  
"I like my hair, Fran," Sydney said, thinking of all the different wigs she had worn. "You're not obsessed with red, are you?" Too much red was never enough, it seemed. But Sydney had seen enough red. Danny's blood still dripped in her mind as she remembered him in the bathtub.  
  
"I was just babbling. Let me change and we can still catch the end of Just Shoot Me."  
  
Shoot her? Why? The show, of course! "Okay."  
  
Within minutes, Sydney and Francie were sitting on the couch, all decked out and sipping on cans of diet Coke.   
  
=====  
  
The doorbell rang, and Sydney glanced at the clock. Seven on the dot. Never like Vaughn to be late.  
  
-|the only note: thanks for all the feedback. it's what finally motivated me to push my writer's block away and start writing—er, typing again. yes, vaughn was a little pushy. i know i made will too vulnerable. i hope i did better this time with the realism. the episode i based this after was so long ago i cant remember anything for flashbacks. i know there were none in this chapter.  
i incorporated a lot of ideas from reviews into this chapter. dont forget to review again and motivate me to write a third sequel!  
and a shoutout from my lil bro: 'thumbs up to frankie muniz for proving that short people can star in movies.' i tried to tell him that frankie's taller now, but big whoop. he is taller, right?|- 


	3. Chapter 3

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
"Joey's Pizza. That'll be, $14.38, please."   
  
Sydney gaped as she stared at the pizza delivery boy. "I didn't order any pizza."  
  
"Well, a Mister Tip—oh, shit! They canceled this order at the last minute. Sorry to bother you, ma'am."  
  
"It's okay." She suddenly remembered something. "What's your phone number?" At the risk of sounding to straightforward, she added, "I mean, in case I ever want to order a pizza or something."  
  
The pizza boy handed her a small flyer. "Here. It's at the bottom."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Sorry again." As she shut the door, Sydney heard a soft, "She is fine!" She smiled and walked back to the couch.  
  
"Who was it?" Francie asked, looking up from the end credits of the show they had been watching.  
  
"Joey's Pizza."  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
"Yep. And I got their phone number too; it's nowhere near ours." Upon further examination of the number, she said, "Actually, it's ours but scrambled up."  
  
"What?" Francie stood up. Sydney took a pen from a nearby table and wrote their phone number above the one on the flyer.  
  
"See? If you take every other number from theirs, then the ones that are left, you get our phone number."  
  
"That is way confusing. How did you come up with it like that?" After Sydney grinned, Francie continued: "So the only way you could get the two numbers mixed up is if you did it on purpose, or if you got momentarily confused."  
  
"Right."  
  
Francie sat down heavily, and Sydney looked at her, concerned.  
  
"I just can't get over it. What if someone's stalking us or something?"  
  
"That's ridiculous. Who would stalk us?" She smiled, though the possibility had raced through her mind. Francie grinned back.  
  
"You're right. Let's see what's on TV next."  
  
/*/*\*\  
  
Tileto, Angora: Horatio Gælgoa's estate—  
  
"I've got a shadow," Sydney said breathlessly, running more rapidly and in different directions to confuse her follower.  
  
"Keep running! I don't have you on radar anymore but give me a minute and I pull out a vehicle northeast—" Dixon's voice started shaking until the static covered him up completely. Sydney chucked the earpiece far to her right.  
  
"Good; he lost your signal. Head west-northwest. The shadow is a federal motocrosser who'll do a roundabout to get to you."  
  
"The feds have motocrossers?"  
  
"He's in the witness protection program, wanted to do something to thank the Bureau."  
  
Sydney wondered why a biker would need protection as she glanced at her mini-GPS and turned to her left. She knew SD-6 would have no idea where she went until she mysteriously appeared at a rendezvous point. A web of lies developed in her mind. A guard had found her and held her hostage until early in the morning, when he dozed off for a few minutes and she cut herself out of the ropes tying her to a chair. They wouldn't be able to trace the guard because he was...  
  
A small noise came up from behind her, growing louder and louder and showering light around her. Sydney put her story aside for the moment; threw out her hands at the right moment and caught on to the rider, swinging herself on and saying to Vaughn, "I'm on."  
  
"Okay. Tell him to follow path X-T-4-5. Dixon is hot on your trail."  
  
"X-T-4-5." She could feel him give a slight nod as they continued on their ride. The wind rushed past them and Sydney closed her eyes for just a moment. "I like it better when the shadows are known," she whispered suddenly, more to herself than her earpiece.  
  
"Me too," the voice on the other side replied.  
  
\*\*/*/  
  
It wasn't a stalker, Sydney suddenly realized, but it was someone. They were checking up on her, making sure she didn't leave in the middle of the night. There were people too numerous to count who wanted her. She knew why. But the Joey's Pizza call came just every so often; was it an outsider or — was it CIA or SD-6?  
  
=====  
  
Vaughn and Charlie both showed up at the door a matter of minutes later, both dressed in suits. The men had already decided to take Charlie's Civic since Vaughn drove a Porsche ("It's old and has been in the family." From looking at it, Sydney couldn't tell it was any older than the twenty-first century.). Everyone piled in, Francie and Sydney in back, Vaughn and Charlie in the front. It was only a short drive to the restaurant, whose guests seemed dressed very formally for a pizza parlor. Sydney was glad all four of them had dressed up.  
  
During the car ride, Sydney had heard an almost prophetic song. The chorus repeated in her head for quite a while later, when she had finally figured out the words (it was hip-hop/rap, where the words come out much quicker than her usual choice of classical or contemporary).  
  
It seemed odd at first. A singer singing about having a split personality. It was just like Sydney felt. For the first time, a few weeks earlier, she had thought those same words. Her body had been following through in what she was doing day after day, but her mind seemed somewhere else. What if it didn't have to be that way? If only she could stop it all...  
  
She wondered what would happen if she stopped reporting to SD-6; maybe even Vaughn and the rest of the CIA. She could follow through with school every day, live more like an average collegate. Her mind then rationalized everything, and she decided that she could live with being a double agent. Split personality or not, she needed to keep her head in the game. She loved the thrill of the hunt—and the adrenaline of the chase. Her prowess was always going to be a part of her.   
  
Sydney suddenly remembered where she was (the wafting smell of a deep dish Chicago-style pizza helped) and placed her eyes on Vaughn's profile, thinking of nowhere else to put them. He looked at her for a moment a few seconds later—how he had noticed her watching him was beyond Sydney—and continued her conversation with Charlie.  
  
  
[Sydney: At first, I didn't want anything to do with Vaughn—especially if it concerned doing something with my friends. The night's been going pretty okay, though. I mean, aside from realizing Vaughn has an ESP sort of thing when I look at him, everything has been normal. 'Normal' meaning not out of the ordinary, no embarassing questions from Francie (where they all seem to come from). Although, I do have to remember to call Vaughn 'Michael'; it's become too much of a habit, or an instinct almost. Who else's voice would suddenly appear in my ear when I didn't even know my earrings had been bugged? Where did I get those earrings, now that's a more legit question.   
It's so exciting just to be in this restaurant. It's not opening day, but the day after. A lot more civillians are here now, and the sight of a pizza being carried past with candles still makes me want to laugh, even after it has happened at least three times.]  
  
  
The guys ordered—without consulting Sydney or Francie, but Sydney figured she would like whatever they ordered (exotic food was now part of her taste). As she sat at their table, waiting for their pizza pie, Sydney seemed in a trancelike stance. Francie, worried for her friend, said, "I'll be right back." She looked at Sydney pointedly, and Sydney added an, "I'll come with."  
  
"What's up?" Francie asked once they were out of the guys' eyesight. "You're looking all weird-like. Are you okay?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Sydney replied, realizing that her musing had worried Francie. "I think I need a drink though," she added, "something to settle my stomach."  
  
"Do you need something? I have Advil; the peppermint coated kind. Or I can get you a mudslide. Unless—in my pur—"  
  
Sydney smiled, hoping to relax her tense friend. "No thanks, Fran. I just need a Shirley Temple; something light and caffeineted."  
  
"Okay." They headed back to their table.  
  
a/n review and gimme ideas. Angora is my kind of action scene, hint hint. oh, and was it just me or did the end of The Prophecy (3/3) thoroughly freak you out too? jw. out here waiting for some more s/v moments: tOo 


	4. Chapter 4

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
Sydney pushed open the glass door and stepped into line behind Vaughn, swinging her purse on to her right shoulder. She had timed everything precisely. A strange feeling from somewhere near her stomach caused her to smile stupidly at him, cursing inwardly at the same time. He gave a curt nod and looked through the window in front of them. For a few moments they stood, watching doughnuts being made on the other side of the glass.  
  
  
[Sydney: Don't get me wrong, I love Krispy Kreme doughnut stores as much as the next person. I love how you can watch how the doughnuts are made, everything from maiking the dough to baking perfect circles to showering glaze on them. The rotating oven. And the conveyer belt that the doughnuts go on when they're cooled and glazed. But the absolute best part is eating them: feeling the doughnut smush under your teeth, licking the glaze off your fingertips. Classic. Everything would—and could, possibly—be comfortable, even with Vaughn here. Except it isn't. Whatever happened to the warehouse? Someone better tell me.]  
  
  
"Would you like a sample?" Sydney spun around, startled. Lo and behold, there was a young bleached-blonde boy decked out in a signature Krispy Kreme green apron offering her a doughnut.  
  
"No thanks," she replied, smiling at him. She heard Vaughn accept the hot pastry as she watched the sampler hit on several other women her own age (which caused her to wonder why he hadn't attempted to flirt with her) before reaching the start of the line and going back to the end for any new customers.   
  
"Call this giving in to temptation, but the smell of the glaze is making me wish I had a doughnut. Could I have some of yours?" Sydney asked suddenly, feeling totally out of character and wishing she could take it back. This is not Will, she told herself.   
  
Vaughn held out on her for a moment, most likely wondering if this breach in anonymity was worth it. "Sure." He held it out to Sydney, who blew on it before she took a bite—her teeth un-puffing the doughnut, her tongue melting the hot and fresh sugar. It gave her an 'everything's gonna be alright' feeling and a warmth that reached out to her fingertips. She looked up at Vaughn.  
  
Apparently, Vaughn had been expecting her to take half or something because a look of surprise crossed over his face as Sydney said a quick, "Thanks," and licked her lips, giving Vaughn a slight smile. His uptight self relaxed then—Sydney could see his shoulders loosen. He bit into the hot doughnut and walked forward in the line.  
  
"Sorry for leaving so suddenly after dinner," Vaughn said suddenly, staring at a row of doughnuts moving under a waterfall of glaze. "My beeper went off." He crumpled up the baker's paper his doughnut had been in.  
  
"Mine did too," Sydney replied, "so you don't have to apologize." She remembered that she had closed the door on his retreating figure, almost sighing as she locked it.  
  
"I should have said something like I'll call you or something like that."  
  
"No, really—it's okay. Unless Francie hadn't hit the sack ten seconds after she walked in; then she would have grilled me on your 'goodnight kissing' abilities." She grinned to herself, imagining Francie actually asking her, 'So, how does he kiss?' Her cheeks went pink. She slid her purse down her arm and grasped the handle with both hands.  
  
"You did well in Beijing. We now know who and where their contacts are."  
  
"Good."  
  
There they stood in silence, until Vaughn was finally next in line.   
  
"May I help you?" asked a short brunette with a green apron on.  
  
"Six original glazed, please."  
  
The girl filled a small box and handed it to him, reminding him to pay at the counter. She then went to the customer standing behind Sydney and smiled.   
  
"Escuse me?" Sydney said. The girl looked back at her, confused. So did Vaughn, who had stopped momentarily. "I'd like to order." Vaughn continued.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I thought you were with him... Sorry. What would you like?"  
  
Sydney gave the flustered girl a grin. "It's ok. I'd like two devil's food." After a second, she added, "In a bag." She was handed a small bag and headed toward the counter, stepping into a line next to the one Vaughn was in. It seemed to be moving too slowly.  
  
/*/*\*\  
  
Ophelia, Greece; the Ophelia state capital building—  
  
"The press office is just down that hall, miss," said the receptionist in English, with only a trace of a Greek accent.  
  
"Thank you." Sydney spoke with a Englander's lilt.  
  
"Would you like an escort?"  
  
Sydney knew what she was really saying was, 'These parts are not safe for a lone foreigner, even on business.'  
  
"No," Sydney replied. "I've brought another reporter with me. Giles?" Dixon looked up from the newspaper he was reading. Sydney nodded, and he set the paper down.  
  
Dixon tilted his head slightly. "Ready?" he asked once he had reached her, also speaking like a Brit.  
  
"Of course."  
  
\*\*/*/  
  
By the time she started towards her Jeep, Vaughn had disappeared. When she opened her purse to find her keys (they hadn't been in her coat pocket) she found a note.  
  
"So, how do I kiss?"  
  
=====  
  
"Francie! I have doughnuts," Sydney called from the doorway. After her trip to Krispy Kreme's, she had stopped by the Credit Dauphine building for a few hours, filling out paperwork. It was now 9:45 in the evening.  
  
She slung her coat over her arm and walked into the rest of the house.  
  
There was Vaughn in jeans and a t-shirt, sitting next to Francie on the couch. He stood up when he saw Sydney walk into the living room with her eyebrows raised questioningly. Uncomfortable as she felt, she gave a huge smile and laid her coat over the arm of an armchair, placing the bag of doughnuts on the table. She couldn't think of anything to say as she fixed the collar of her black blouse.  
  
Francie stood as well. "Before you can say anything, I invited Michael over." Sydney had half a mind to ask Francie who Michael was before she realized that he was Vaughn. "He called and I picked up. He didn't know that we're roommates, but he said he had doughnuts and I immediately said that he was a saint and could come over any time he felt like it." She gave Sydney a vulnerable smile. "Is that okay with you?"  
  
"Yeah, it's fine." Of course it wasn't. Sydney could not mix her work life and private life. SD-6 would find out about his repeated visits to her house, and do a background check on him. They would find out he was CIA, possibly get rid of him.  
  
She couldn't put his life in danger.  
  
As if he could read her thoughts, Vaughn looked up at Sydney and said, "I won't come that often, with work and all." Meaning: 'I'll probably never come back.' Sydney relaxed a little bit.  
  
"What do you guys do in that place?" Francie asked. Vaughn and Sydney looked at each other, the look plainly saying 'You don't know the half of it.' Francie shook her head before speaking of a much lighter subject: "Let's have some doughnuts!"  
  
=====  
  
Will sat at his desk, somehow uncomfortable in surroundings that now felt like home. He repositioned himself in his chair. The hustle and bustle around him was tuned out as he closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to relax.  
  
Sydney had not called him in three days. No problem, she was probably on a trip or something. His shoulders tensed up—usually she at least left a message when she left. So he didn't come by while neither she nor Francie was home and ring the doorbell like an idiot.  
  
A voice stopped his random thoughts.  
  
"Okay, Tippin—let's have your article." His advisor. She might as well have been called his boss.  
  
"My what? Oh. Right, right. I don't think I did one."  
  
"What are you talking about? That tiny thing on that park opening you couldn't get around to doing? That's what you get paid the big bucks for, Mr. Tippin, but I can make them turn into small bucks, or even no bucks."  
  
"Gettin' Warbucks..."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Annie. The play? Movie? Er, never mind."  
  
"That I will. But I expect that article done by tomorrow."  
  
"Yes ma'am." Will looked down at his desk and shuffled some papers around, looking for the sheet his assignment was on.  
  
"At ease, soldier." Rebecca, standing at his desk.  
  
"Hello, Rebecca. Have you seen my—"  
  
"Assignment sheet? Got it right here." She handed it to him.  
  
"Where would I be without you?" he replied, skimming the paper.  
  
"Stalking the Bristow character." He glanced up sharply, but she was smiling.  
  
"Right. I'm sure I would be." Will scratched his head and turned to his computer.  
  
=====  
  
"We have received some intel regarding Viral Vidal." Sloane looked at Sydney and smiled. "Thanks to Miss Bristow's good work in Beijing, we now have his list of recent contacts. Now, Agents Bristow and Dixon, you are going to Tokyo. We need to infiltrate Vidal's cover: a factory."   
  
He pressed a button and stood up. The pictures on the screens changed to a large white building with two walls covered with what seemed to be cartoons. "To be specific, a cartoon factory. One level of this building is where top animators in Japan work, the other is where the top agents of Vidal's agency work. You will stay there as security guards for four days gathering intel—no more, no less." He watched Dixon and Sydney, looking for something that would show that they were opposed to staying in one place that long. Neither moved. However, Sydney had shared a sharp glance at her father, who suddenly spoke up.  
  
"Sir, Sydney has school. She can not miss that many classes or she will be forced to drop them, losing all the hard work she has put in all semester."  
  
"This mission will take place during the Columbus Day weekend." Two weeks ahead.  
  
Jack Bristow silenced. He really needed to look at a calendar. Sydney shifted in her seat. She knew Francie was going to be pissed because she had promised they would go on a shopping spree that weekend. Dixon stared at the computer screen. He couldn't stand cartoons, least of all japanimation. An excited vibe flowed from the other side of the room.  
  
Sloane turned to his right. "Marshall?"  
  
a/n this chap's been messed with, so it seems much better! Ophelia is made up, i bet greece is actually safe [hello olympics], and i dont even kno if they have states there, even if i did do a project on it some time in middle school [how i can remember that is beyond me]. ugh, i kno this chap is way too cutesy, even for me, so dont say anything about that. but if you liked it, you are obliged to voice your opinion. out here waiting for vaughn to have found his way through the vent system of that building and find sydney and start kissing her like some sort of lovelorn maniac: tOo. 


	5. Chapter 5

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
"Okay guys, I have to leave. My flight leaves in an hour." In truth, she had three, but she wanted—needed to get away for a while.  
  
She got up from the couch and placed her glass in the sink. Will and Francie looked back at her, Francie pausing the movie they had been watching. "How long will you be gone?" Francie asked, eyes wide as Sydney stepped into her bedroom.  
  
"Four days," Sydney replied as she reappeared with her usual black bag.  
  
"You have four days worth of clothes in that tiny suitcase? I envy you!"  
  
Will laughed at Francie's remark and added, "Yeah, you'd have four suitcases."  
  
"It's a convention on world currencies."  
  
"You must really love your job if you're going to survive that boredom until Tuesday."  
  
Sydney smiled. She couldn't really trust herself with replying.  
  
"What about school?" Francie wondered.  
  
"It's four days." I won't be missed. "Besides, I'm only going to Japan. The convention's at this casino. They've got it blocked off for us."  
  
"A whole casino?" Will asked. "I never knew that bank was so powerful," Francie said.  
  
You don't know the half of it. "Well, all the employees from all over the world will be there." She took a deep breath. "Okay, I've gotta get going."  
  
"See you." "Bye! Call!"  
  
"I'll try." The door slammed behind Sydney. She knew she wouldn't be able to.  
  
=====  
  
"Sydney, what are you doing here? Vaughn just left." Haladki stood in front of Sydney, staring.  
  
Sydney, startled, quickly said, "What do you mean? Where did he go?"  
  
"To meet you wherever he meets you, I guess."  
  
"Wait a minute. Why wasn't I informed?" She started towards Vaughn's office.  
  
"Because he's not." Weiss interrupted. "He's going to your place to pick you up for the airport."  
  
"He is?" both Haladki and Sydney asked, staring at him.  
  
Sydney rushed to the phone inside Vaughn's office, dialing his cell. "I just fed Will and Francie this bull story about a convention. He said he wouldn't come over anymore. Vaughn, where are you?" She sat on the desk and frantically drummed her fingers on it, waiting for him to pick up.  
  
"When did he go there the first time?" Haladki asked Weiss.  
  
"I don't know for sure," was his reply, "but Devlin's not going to be happy."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"The shrink told him he wasn't supposed to meet her any time other than the scheduled meetings, but they went to dinner once and he went over to her house to drop off doughnuts once. And I doubt that was the first time he went over."  
  
"They're dating?" Haladki looked surprised.  
  
Weiss shrugged his shoulders. "Looks like it to me. Better hope her father doesn't find out."  
  
=====  
  
Vaughn sat back in his seat as he drove through Sydney's neighborhood. He hoped she had checked her pager or her voicemail, otherwise she might be gone already. She didn't know that he had to brief her.  
  
He heard an odd ringing noise. What the hell? he thought, shaking his head rapidly. The ringing didn't go away and he realized it was his cell phone. He didn't usually have it on so he wasn't used to it's noise.  
  
He picked it up. A blocked phone number appeared on the screen and he pressed Talk anyway.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"What are you doing? Are you at my house yet?"  
  
Sydney. "No. Where are you?"  
  
"CIA. You have to come back."  
  
He swung wide and made a U-turn. "Didn't you get my pages? Or my messages?"  
  
"No. Did you call the house phone?"  
  
"Why would I?"  
  
"Never mind. Just get back here before you appear on my doorstep to a confused Will and Francie. They think I'm off to bank conventions."  
  
"Well, I'm on my way back."  
  
"Good."  
  
They both hung up.  
  
=====  
  
Sydney sat in the passenger seat of Vaughn's car. Actually, it was CIA issue so it technically was not his. The Volkswagen was nice to ride in on the typical Los Angelos day—the air-conditioning was on full blast. Vaughn sat comfortably beside her with one hand on the wheel and the other on his knee. It kept twitching almost violently; Sydney was sure that Vaughn usually put his arm around the passenger-side head rest but didn't now because of the situation. It almost made her smile. She felt the need to fill the silence; it wasn't awkward or anything of the sort—she just was in talking mode and the borderline-angry feeling she had felt while talking to Vaughn on the phone was still there.  
  
"You should have called the house."  
  
"I will next time."  
  
"Yeah right. Next time I'll keep my pager on, so there won't be a next time."  
  
"If you say so."  
  
A few more minutes of silence. As soon as Vaughn had returned to headquarters, Sydney had quite literally tossed her suitcase into the trunk of his car before she quickly sat in the passenger seat and ordered him to drive to the warehouse. He knew that was where she was most comfortable talking, and that the twenty-minute ride there would most likely be filled with silence.  
  
Sydney reached over and turned off the fan, therefore turning off the air-conditioner. A few seconds later, Vaughn's arm went up around her head rest. There they sat, still in silence. Vaughn's fingertips brushed Sydney's shoulder and pulled back, which this time was covered in a white blouse. She played with the hem of her skirt.   
  
The warehouse came into view of the front windshield. Both unbuckled their seat belts as Vaughn parked. They opened their doors at the same time and stepped out, one with his left foot first and the other with her right. Two doors slammed, but they sounded like one. They went into the warehouse walking next to each other, neither in front or back. Vaughn sat in one chair and Sydney sat in another. In silence, they stared at different parts of the room for the next hour.  
  
a/n quick and concise and to the point, i'm hoping? IT IS, after i improved it. well, it's your call. a little less cutesy than the last chap, so me is happy. ha ha, bad grammar. o well. out here waiting for a fantastic idea for the next chapter courtesy of some genius reviewers: tOo.  
everybody, check out Entertainment Weekly for this week! jen garner is on the cover, and there's an alias scoop as well as some awesome pics in it. i have it, and if i can get to a scanner i can upload them onto my web page. 


	6. Chapter 6

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
Sydney was the first to speak, again. She did have quite the dominant personality. However, what she said was rather cryptic.  
  
"I'll be right back."  
  
Vaughn watched her leave, clutch purse in hand, without adding a response. He pretended that he didn't wonder where she was going, how long it would take. Underneath his brushed attitude he truly did, but—for all he knew—she could be taking a trip to the little girls' room. He clenched and unclenched his fists. It's not like he wanted her to think he was her father or something, keeping tabs on where she was at all times.  
  
No, he definitely didn't want her to think he was her father—or even remotely like her father. They only thing they had in common was a workaholic attitude, but that was probably often seen in people of their situation. As if there were anyone else in the world in his situation.  
  
But he was so wrong. Jack Bristow and Michael Vaughn had more in common than he thought they did.  
  
=====  
  
Sydney could hear her footsteps around her all they way down the hallway. Once she reached the large gate separating the inside of the warehouse from the rest of the world, she stopped. This was the moment of truth.   
  
She could violate every aspect of trust she and Vaughn shared—and, whether she believed it or not, there was a lot.   
Or she could go back and pretend none of this had run through her mind.  
  
Would she or wouldn't she?  
  
Sydney took her sunglasses out of her purse and put them on.  
  
She gently pulled the gate open, trying to refrain from letting it emit loud squeaks. She stepped quietly and kept her heels from making loud clacking sounds as they hit the floor. It was only a few hundred feet to where the Volkswagen was parked in the near-empty parking lot.  
  
The car keys were hidden in her palm already; she had taken them from Vaughn's pocket before they had even gotten inside the warehouse. If he had noticed their silent absence, he hadn't said anything.  
  
=====  
  
It had only been a few minutes—two, maybe three tops—but Vaughn had started wondering where Sydney had gone when her echoing footsteps quite abruptly stopped.  
  
About thirty seconds later, a familiar flashing light and beeping started. It was the signal that the gate had been opened—telling the two coverts that they needed to disperse. He looked at a small monitor placed in a corner of the room and stared. Vaughn wrinkled his forehead, confused.  
  
The monitor he was watching showed what the camera sitting just outside the gate saw.  
  
The camera saw a tall brunette in dark glasses stepping into a Volkswagen and speeding out of the parking lot. She looked like she was in a hurry.  
  
=====  
  
Sydney threw her purse on to the passenger seat. She usually wasn't one for the throwing of personal objects, but this wasn't usual. She was heading over to Vaughn's apartment.  
  
It wasn't everyday she drove to her bosses' homes.   
  
  
[Sydney: I didn't go to Vaughn's place looking for anything specific. Come to think of it, I really have no reason for doing it—except that I hadn't told Vaughn an important piece of information someone deep inside SD-6 had located. After the mission briefing, Sloane had informed me that a hacker had accessed my files recently. This hacker had left an all-too-obvious calling card (whether on accident or purposefully, I don't know): a picture of a mole. Fortunately, the same person appeared to have hacked into several other agents' files as well. So it isn't a dead giveaway on who it is.  
Sloane wants me to team up with Marshall and check out the files that were accessed, to see if there were any connections or anything of that sort. He said this was to be completed before the end of next month, meaning I had a month and a half to spend some quality time with Marshall—and you know, I hadn't done that in a while.  
Well, so far I spent two hours with Marshall, and some scary stuff piled up. The only way I knew about it was I slipped into Marshall's office (if you can call it that; it's so messy) a few minutes before he expected me—he wasn't in at the moment. I saw my paper file on his desk and checked it out. Apparently, I have been linked to Vaughn: SD-6 is keeping tabs on the people I've been seen with and they're convinced I'm secretly married or engaged or something with Vaughn. I'm sure it worries them, particularly because there's apparently a big government stamp on the first page his file and the rest is absent. CIA must still believe in paper. As I left, after researching only one of the other agents under suspicion, I took the disc I had copied my digital file on with me.  
Surprisingly, I hadn't anticipated the leaking of Vaughn's existence to happen so quickly. I knew it would happen eventually, but this was rather fast. Or that it would be this funny. Still, it seems like just last week I found out the truth about SD-6.  
Hopefully, Sloane doesn't know there is a reason someone was tracking me. Or that the real mole situation is a true family affair.]  
  
  
When Sydney reached the building where Vaughn lived, she stopped at the main door before going on. Surely, if any, this was a time to question her morals. She squeezed her purse to make sure the mini-disc was in it.  
  
She opened the door and walked quickly to the elevator, pushing the button for the third floor. The bell rang—she had arrived. Sydney stepped out of the elevator and on to the porch that surrounded the entire floor, turning left before continuing. As soon as she reached his door, she unlocked it and went in fast so she wouldn't change her mind. It was refreshingly untidy—that is, it wasn't so clean it seemed no one lived here, but it wasn't so messy that she couldn't find her way around. It was just so.  
  
Sydney found her way to kitchen easily. Her original plan was to put it in the silverware drawer, but what if he didn't open it before she got back? No, not a good idea. She wanted it somewhere so obvious he wouldn't look there but would at for sure.  
  
The phone.  
  
She slipped the disc under the handset and stepped back. Before she could think twice, she left.  
  
This time she took the stairs.  
  
=====  
  
"Hi Francie, is Sydney home?" He knew she wasn't. This whole phone call was unnecessary idle chatter, but he felt the need to talk to someone, and he didn't like talking to himself. And Sydney was out of the question at the moment.  
  
"Michael, hi! No, she left for the airport for the convention. Aren't you supposed go to that thing, too?"  
  
Vaughn stepped on the accelerator, keeping the Volkswagen in his windshield. He had rushed to one of the extra government vehicles parked in the warehouse. It just so happened that he was in a police car.  
  
"Yeah, but I was supposed to pick her up."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"So we could carpool. Save some money on parking. Some of our other co-workers were going to come with us."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know that! Sydney must have forgotten or something. It's really not like her to forget anything. Again, I'm really sorry..."  
  
"No need for you to apologize. I'll page her."  
  
"Okay. Sorry for the trouble."  
  
"Hey, you didn't cause any." He hung up before she could add anything more.  
  
A few seconds passed. Sydney didn't seem to be driving any slower. He was still thoroughly shocked from what he had just seen Sydney do. He couldn't believe that she had just broken into his apartment and stayed in there for about two minutes, doing who knows what. Although, she had stood outside the main door before opening it for quite a bit of time, seeming to think over whatever she was about to do.  
  
He followed her on to the highway (he was surprised she hadn't noticed the police car tailing her).  
  
A feeling of confusion washed over Vaughn. He took a deep breath. It was time to bring out the big guns—  
  
He turned on the siren.  
  
=====  
  
Sydney heard a police siren behind her.   
  
"Shit."  
  
She pondered speeding up and turning it into a show for the car-chase loving audience.  
  
Nah. She pulled over. She had nothing against a cop trying to meet his quota.  
  
Besides, there was no point in fighting the law. Even if she was a law-breaker to the most extreme extent.  
  
=====  
  
Vaughn couldn't relish the feeling of shocking Sydney when he stepped out of the police sedan. He went up to her window in a cop-like fashion and motioned for her to put it down.  
  
"So, you coming with me or am I coming with you?"  
  
"Who's going to take the car back to the warehouse?"  
  
"I'll radio back for someone to pick it up."  
  
Then, to the surprise to many drivers heading down that stretch of the L.A. expressway, the police officer sat in the passenger seat of the apprehended driver's car and sped away, leaving the cop car behind him.  
  
In short, Vaughn sat down in his own car.  
  
a/n i realize the story's not as humorous as it used to be, but i'll try to keep if from turning into a true piece of angstiness. ok, i know this was a weird chapter and the whole thing takes place in about a 20 minute time period, but you just have to wait until i write the next chapter to find out what happens next!  
can't wait until sept 29! so excited! hyperventilating! frowning because i kno s/v wont kiss or anything in the first 10 episodes: tOo [couldn't they eat lunch or something? coffee; i'll settle for coffee.] 


	7. Chapter 7

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
They seemed to drive forever. Sydney didn't mind. Neither did Vaughn. Both of them needed a little un-hysterically hectic time in their days, and this seemed to be perfect.  
  
"We should do this more often."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know, this."  
  
"Drive around aimlessly?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I guess."  
  
Vaughn pressed his lips together. He had said that to sort of break the silence, but it hadn't started a full-blown conversation. He wiped the moisture off his left hand on his leg, quickly putting it back on the wheel. Next to him Sydney shifted her seat.  
  
"There's a gas station. You want to switch again or are you comfortable?"  
  
Vaughn could hear the anticipation in her voice. If she wanted to keep herself busy by driving, it was fine with him.  
  
=====  
  
Sydney's grip tightened on the steering wheel. She had been driving for about twenty-five minutes; they had switched at the border. No one else had been sighted for at least the last ten minutes, and there weren't any cops around so Sydney sped.  
  
The car was still heading southeast towards the middle of Arizona. It's not like they had discussed their destination; Vaughn had not said anything, not even when they switched seats, so Sydney just kept driving. A few more minutes passed.   
  
Sydney knew she should say something about her flight—SD-6 would get highly suspicious if she missed it. With all Dixon knew, or thought he knew, he would immediately report her to security section: not a good event seeing as she was already being pinned as a possible mole. She went over the words in her head and parted her lips.  
  
"Watch out!" Vaughn shouted.  
  
She swerved but the giant pot hole was too big for the car to get around. The rear left tire was stuck.  
  
Vaughn and Sydney jumped out of the car, both rushing to the tire to inspect the damage. Vaughn looked around and saw no one. "Come on, we can get this one out. You lift there on the side and I'll pick up the back."  
  
Sydney nodded. "On three. One... two... three!" They grunted, trying to the wheel out of the depression in the road. "Stop, I'll come over there."  
  
"You don't need—" but she was already there. Sydney counted again and both pulled the bumper up, not effortlessly though. Finally, the tire seemed to move a little bit. They continued to lift and push the car until all four wheels were on the same level of ground.  
  
"Whew." Sydney breathed a sigh of relief. Vaughn took of his suit jacket and draped it on the roof, his gun easily seen by Sydney. At least someone was packing; she didn't have anything because she was supposed to be getting on an airplane.  
  
Oh yeah, Japan. "Vaughn, how am I going to get to Japan?"  
  
"Japan?" It took him a second to remember. "We can get a jet or heli out here."  
  
"How? Our phones just happen to be out of service."  
  
"There's a satellite phone in the car."  
  
Ah. That would work. Sydney sat on the trunk of the car, leaned back on the windshield and on part of Vaughn's coat. It was humid; she was sweating in her cotton shirt.  
  
"Dixon's going to wonder. He's trying to piece everything together."  
  
"Don't worry, Syd, he won't. There are way too many pieces in this puzzle."  
  
"What about the fi—" She remembered that Vaughn hadn't gone home yet. "I guess he won't."  
  
Vaughn could sense her worry. That was how well they knew each other. He placed his hand on her's instinctively, trying to relieve her of her tension. Hesitantly, he squeezed it; gently, more for the reason of touching her than relaxing her. It was the pier all over again. Except this time it was hot outside. And she wasn't crying.  
  
He looked at her; she smiled back at him. He let go and turned back towards the car, going around to the driver's side. Sydney sat next to him, holding his jacket in her lap. The engine revved, and they were off. Continuing their journey to nowhere.  
  
a/n i know, this is the shortest chapter yet, but i thought it was cute. okay, i'm losing it. just read, review, and click 'Next.' i just realized that vaughn's driven like four different cars in this story. ha ha. everyone watch The Passage on 12/1: tOo 


	8. Chapter 8

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
Vaughn took his sunglasses off and folded them up. He handed them to Sydney, who put them in the glove compartment without questioning him. "Sydney, we—I think we should speak to your father."  
  
Sydney glanced at him sharply, brown eyes glimmering with question. "Why?"  
  
"I found a memo on my desk last week, but it's taken me some time to decipher what it said on it."  
  
"It wasn't written English?"  
  
"Yeah, it was, but it I think he could help us understand it. I still haven't figured out its full meaning." He paused for a moment, and his lips curled up into a smile for just under a nanosecond. "I know what you're going to ask me now. I have a copy of in in my wallet."  
  
His wallet? Sydney wondered, watching him drive with his left hand so he could fish his wallet out of his back pocket. What was wrong with a coat pocket or something? That's where all the secret agents on TV put their information.  
  
He tossed it toward her lap and she caught it. "It's in the billfold," he said. Sydney opened up the folded black leather. All it contained was a badge, his driver's license, and—sure enough—a piece of folded up white paper in the billfold. She unfolded it and looked it over.  
  
"Is there something significant about the date?"  
  
"That's the day when—" He pondered stopping; she could fit the pieces together. "That's the day my father died."  
  
As she placed the paper back inside Vaughn's wallet, Sydney found a penny. She picked it up and out of curiousity looked at the year. 1994. The same year she was recruited for SD-6. "I found a penny in your wallet. I guess I broke the whole non-material guy look you were going for."  
  
"Huh? Oh, that. I didn't know I put it in there."   
  
"Is it anything special? Or am I just being a busybody?"  
  
"I don't know; I haven't had a chance to look at it. It came with the note."  
  
It all seemed very suspicious to Sydney, but she kept her mouth shut as she watched Vaughn make it look like he was concentrating on the road ahead of him. She was trained to notice these kinds of things. The penny had thrown him off, shaken him. She would have to look into it.  
  
=====  
  
They had been driving for so long it was beginning to grow dark. Sydney didn't remember exactly what time they had started. And they still didn't have a definite destination.  
  
Sydney was driving again. While she had taken over the wheel for only half an hour so far, Vaughn was stealing a catnap. She'd found herself compelled to look at him numerous times. Watching him breathe. Repeatedly she had to shake her head vigorously, and she just barely missed driving off the road twice.  
  
To get her mind off Japan, the heat, Vaughn—Sydney recited Russian poetry in her head. She had even recited a forty-three line free verse out loud without Vaughn stirring at all. She smiled. The thought of him sleeping through anything amused her. He needed the sleep, though. She needed the sleep. Next time Vaughn takes over, she mentally noted, I'm snoring.  
  
=====  
  
Well, Vaughn did take over—but Sydney was not snoring. She was sleeping peacefully and soundlessly, except for her breaths.  
  
But they weren't moving.  
  
About two hours after Sydney and Vaughn had switched roles, the engine had sputtered and finally quit. Since they were in a government car, there was no way for Vaughn to access the warranty from a tune-up place without blowing their covers. Neither could he call back for help, because Devlin was sure to get on his case with the usual lecture on protocol and risks and the possibility of SD-6 finding them. Vaughn was unsure how high the probability was of anyone finding them out in the middle of nowhere.  
  
At the moment, the car was parked on the side of the road (it wasn't big enough to be called a highway or even a street). Sydney was not the only one sleeping, however. Vaughn, in the driver's seat, had even breaths and was snoring quietly.   
  
=====  
  
Surprisingly, it the light sound of Vaughn snoring that caused Sydney to wake.  
  
When she woke, her eyelids fluttered for a few seconds. There was an unbelievable amount of warmth covering her, and she realized that she was in the middle of what appeared to be a desert. An arm was draped over her shoulders. She traced it with her eyes until she saw Vaughn sitting beside her.   
  
Sydney smiled. Vaughn looked so sweet and calm next to her. The sun was hitting his eyes, and she leaned forward to open the glove compartment and take out Vaughn's sunglasses. His arm slid down on her back so she sat up and fixed it. Gently, so as not to wake him, she put his sunglasses on him. He shifted in his seat.  
  
No longer comfortable with the arm around her, Sydney moved his arm around her head. She took Vaughn's hand in hers. The action seemed natural, their hands seemed to conform perfectly. Sydney placed their hands on her thigh. She had almost forgotten that his jacket was in her lap, and she saw it now but did nothing about it.  
  
Head clear of the toughts that should have been running through her head—like Japan, Dixon, protocol, or even SD-6—Sydney drifted off to sleep once more.  
  
a/n i've seen krispy kreme in other ppl's fics! an impact of my lovely doughnut-filled scene?   
hoping s/v have a moment in the next ep. i know you will be too: tOo  
KISS HER, DAMN IT! (my new motto) 


	9. Chapter 9

Alias - Stalking the Truth  
by theONLYone -|therealonlyone@yahoo.com|-  
  
(key:) = - scene change, [xy:] - voiceover by xy, /*/*\*\ - flashback, \*\*/*/ - end flashback  
  
=====  
  
Vaughn stirred, the desert sun finally getting to him. He took his sunglasses off and for a split second forgot ever putting them on. He looked to his right, expecting to see Sydney, but all he saw was an empty seat.  
  
Panic rushed through his body as he looked around frantically. He turned around and looked through the back window of the car, but his eyes traveled down to the back seat. There laid Sydney, bent kind of oddly, with Vaughn's jacked shielding her face from the sun. Ah, Vaughn thought, so she escaped. He smiled and faced forward, wishing he had thought of that. Of course, seeing Sydney forced between the two doors caused him to wonder if he would fit. The back seat folded down, he remembered, so the trunk would have given them all the shade they wanted.  
  
He put the key in the ignition, wondering if he should continue driving or look for some shade. He twisted it and nothing happened. He sat there like an idiot for almost a minute before realizing that the engine had quit on him. Vaughn looked at his left wrist, checking the time on his watch. Ten-thirteen, it read. He sighed and sat back, waiting for Sydney to wake because there was nothing else to do.  
  
Sydney woke just a few minutes later. She sat up, her hair and clothes in disarray, and neatly folded the black coat in her hands before placing it on the seat beside her. Leaning forward, she placed a hand on Vaughn's shoulder. He turned, and despite the situation they were in, they smiled at each other. Sydney felt like she was in a movie; she could see herself watching the large screen, the image of the female lead touching the male lead's shoulder before he turned and they kissed.  
  
What a weird—thing, she thought. Not a daydream, or even a fantasy. Or was it? What surprised her more than that was her actions; she actually leaned forward and kissed Vaughn lightly on the lips. No momentary shock, no uncomfort. It just was.  
  
Vaughn spoke and broke her train of thought. "We're stuck here." He had been pondering his phrasing for the last ten minutes, but when he finally spoke it came out completely different than he had expected. Her kiss must have thrown him off by a few thoughts.  
  
"Stuck? As in we can push the car or there's no sign of civilization around here?"  
  
"As in the engine died and without a mechanic the vultures will be outside any minute now."  
  
Sydney looked down and laughed at the joke he'd stuck in his words. "Well, I'm trained in a lot of things, but fixing cars is not one of my specialities."  
  
"Same here."  
  
There was a little silence, as if they were trying to figure out if this was a good or bad situation.  
  
"So, what do we do now?" Sydney asked, making eye contact.  
  
"I have no idea," Vaughn responded. "We can call back for someone to pick us up, but Devlin and so many other people would get on our backs faster than you can say 'sorry I called'."  
  
"And I'm not really for my dad coming and shouting at both of us."  
  
"Well, on the plus side, you know Haladki would spread rumors."  
  
Sydney grinned. "Let's call him and pretend we're in some motel in the middle of Arkansas."  
  
"Arkansas? I'm not sure we could have driven that far."  
  
"Who cares? We'll say everyone else's phone has a busy signal because they're probably out looking for us. Make sure he doesn't tell anyone."  
  
"That guarantees the opposite."  
  
"Exactly." She was really excited. This would be fun. "And we can use him to take the government notices off the car's records so in the off chance that we do find a mechanic, we can get the car fixed painlessly."  
  
Knowing Sydney could never resist a bit of mischief, Vaughn flipped open his phone and dialed the generic CIA phone number. Her logic made sense as well, but the reason he'd hit Send wasn't that. "I'd like to speak to Agent Haladki, please."  
  
"Who should I say is calling?"  
  
"It's his brother."  
  
"His brother..."  
  
"John," Sydney mouthed and Vaughn said aloud.  
  
"Okay, John, one moment please."  
  
About a minute of silence passed until Vaughn heard Haladki say, "Hey, John. You're not cancelling football on Monday, are you?"  
  
"You watch football?" Vaughn said, out of complete surprise. Here he was thinking Haladki shot squirrels for fun.  
  
"What—who is this?"  
  
"It's Agent Vaughn. Listen, I've been trying to reach someone at the agency for about an hour, but everyone's phone is coming busy."  
  
"That's because they're looking for you and Sydney. Have you seen her?"  
  
"Actually, she's with me." Vaughn could practically hear the excitement covering Haladki's face. "My car broke down in Arkansas, so we stayed overnight at some motel thinking I'd get it back today."  
  
After a moment (no doubt Haladki was registering what he had just heard): "Well, didn't you?"  
  
"No. I guess out here in hicksville they don't take cars with government stamps on their records very seriously. Can you get it off?"  
  
"Sure, no problem. How long do you think it'll take?"  
  
"What, the car? A couple days, hopefully."  
  
"The stamp should be off in half an hour. I'll get on right away."  
  
"Hey, thanks. I owe you."  
  
"Oh, it's no problem."  
  
"Wait!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't tell anybody where we are, okay? Devlin will get on our case when we get back."  
  
"My lips are—" Vaughn hung up before he finished. He looked at Sydney, who was this close to giggling. Even he had a huge grin on his face.  
  
"You have to admit it," Sydney said, "that was fun."  
  
"It was definitely fun."  
  
a/n hee hee, had to do some haladki bashing, even though he's dead. wow, this story is set a long time ago. scary.  
okay, was this not hilarious? i know it was pointless but i had fun writing it and i hope you had fun reading it. review! 


End file.
